


The Special of the Day

by levele3



Series: Bon Appétit! [2]
Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Eating, F/M, First Meetings, Fluff, Food, Gen, Prompt Fill, Tumblr Prompt, meal swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:56:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9510554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levele3/pseuds/levele3
Summary: Marianne is livid when, even at a five star classy restaurant she still receives the wrong meal. Not wanting to make a scene, for her sister's sake, Marianne quietly goes over to the guy's table to politely ask for her food and return his. Unbeknownst to her, he's the owner of the restaurant.





	

**Author's Note:**

> The fic is based on the prompt:  
> "The restaurant messed up our meals and we are sitting at tables next to each other. It wouldn’t hurt to swap- oh you already ate some of mine? That’s ok, want to share?"  
> Sorry I no longer have the source. I picked this up years ago and recently used it for another fandom *cough* Sherlock *cough* which is what I had always intended on using it for. I then got the idea to try it for a different fandom, something I had never done before, so now I'm using the same prompt to write as many different otp as I can. Each unique pairing presents it's own challenges. I will take otp request through Tumblr Inbox.  
> Without further ado, Bon Appétit!

“Marianne, don’t do it” Dawn hissed in warning.

“Why not?” Marianne shot back, her look was livid, nearly stifling her sister’s resolve. 

“Do you really want to make a scene?” Dawn asked, looking around the crowded restaurant.

Marianne followed her sister’s gaze, it was a _really_ nice restaurant. When Marianne had told Dawn to pick wherever she wanted to go for birthday day lunch, _her treat_ , she had not expected her sister to have her heart set on a five star feast. The place was packed too with the busy lunch hour rush of business professionals who lived and breathed the downtown core. 

 _La Forte Noire_ had a cozy, intimate interior, with soft yellow lighting that emitted from wall sconces and low hanging chandeliers. It was not the kind of place anyone would want to make a scene but, Marianne looked back down at her plate and frowned. The meal looked marvelous, almost too good to eat. It was a warm chicken and spinach salad with wild mushrooms and a honey garlic vinaigrette dressing that smelled so good, but it wasn’t what she had ordered.

It was a busy spot and Marianne tried not to blame the wait staff for the mistake. It just went to show, whether it was a burger at a fast-food joint or a steak at a five star restaurant, you had the same chance you’d be served the wrong thing. 

Marianne looked back over her shoulder where the guy sat eating _her_ Grade A steak, with mushrooms and onions, a baked potato with all the trimmings, and creamy, home-style col-slaw on the side. She turned back to Dawn with her lips pulled into a pout. Surly the steak dinner was more expensive than the salad and Marianne didn’t want to pay for a meal she hadn’t even gotten to eat. Using Dawn’s own trick against her Marianne widened her eyes beseechingly. 

“Oh, oh-no” Dawn shook her head slightly, tossing her delicate blonde curls gently, her own eyes going watery and large in response. 

Marianne made her lower lip give a gentle tremble. 

“But, but” Dawn flounder for a reason for Marianne not to go over and interrupt the man currently enjoy the meal meant for her sister. “It’s _my_ birthday” she protested weakly.

Dawn looked down at her maple planked salmon that was currently going cold and uneaten.  

“I’ll be two minutes” in a blink Marianne grabbed her plate and was up and gone from the chair, leaving Dawn alone at the table. 

“Better not let it go to waste” Dawn huffed before bringing a forkful of the flakey salmon to her lips.

“Mmmm” she found herself humming indecently at the explosion of flavour in her mouth.

***

Bog had been a little surprised, but not unpleasantly so when the medium-rare steak dinner arrived. It was cooked just how he liked it. The large baked potato was just right too, topped with sour cream, green onion, and bacon bits. It certainly made up for being stood up. Of course Bog had predicted that. Another one of his mother’s friend’s daughters equaled another lonely lunch. Steak dinner for one, fifty dollars, double shot of whiskey on the rocks, twelve dollars, being stood up at your own restaurant, priceless. 

He was only a few bites into his meal when Bog sensed a presence at his side. Thinking it might be Plum, his head maître d' returning Bog looked up from his meal. It was _not_ Plum. It _was_ a woman. A petit brunette with caramel highlights in her wispy hair, and dark smoky make-up around her bright eyes. For one wild moment Bog thought it might have been the woman he was supposed to have met for lunch. He imagined she’d have some crazy excuse for being forty-five minutes late, but would smile and bat her eyes, she’d look at him in hopes he would cave and forgive her, stand up and offer her a seat. His blood started boil at the thought. He was done with dates, through with being made a laughing stock at his mother’s expense. No more.

Before he had a chance to make a fool of himself, cause a scene and evict her from the restaurant Bog’s rationale returned. The big giveaway being she already held a plate in her hands. _If_ she was his date and was trying to pull off the “ _I just got here trick_ ” she was doing it wrong. This left only one other option as to why she’d come over to his table. Pretty woman did not willingly approach him therefore she must have recognised him as the owner of _La Forte Noire_ and having discovered some flaw in her meal decided to harass him with her concerns. 

“Is there something I can help ye with Miss?” Bog asked cordially.

An accent? Marianne hadn’t been expecting an accent and a Scottish one too. Then there were his stunningly blue eyes which seemed to glow in the dark interior of the restaurant. For a moment she thought her legs would give out. Then she found her voice.

“Yes.” She said rather sharply, “that is, I hope so.” She softened her tone a little. 

“You see, it seems that our two meals somehow got mixed up” Marianne ended up rushing through her explanation.

The man looked between the two dishes, his brow furrowed, and then Marianne was sure his long face turned scarlet, but it was hard to tell in the low light.

“Damnit Plum” he growled, and then coughed sharply to cover up his curse. “I am so sorry Miss. I apologize profusely for the mix up. There won’t be a bill.”

Marianne was dumbstruck; she’d had more of a speech to give but suddenly lost all the words.

“What do you mean there won’t be a bill? Listen, I just want to eat the food I ordered.” She looked longingly at the juicy steak and all its lovely extras.

Bog looked back down at the half eaten steak and felt guilty for not realising sooner.

“I mean how does someone mix-up a steak and a salad?” the woman asked him. It was a good question, Bog wasn’t sure but he had an idea.

His mother had no doubt informed Plum he was supposed to be meeting someone for lunch and when they didn’t show she had taken it upon herself to find someone to eat with him. It wouldn’t have been the first time Plum had mixed-up a single woman’s meal with his own. Bog always and without fail ordered the special of the day without ever asking what it was. 

“Again, may I just say how sorry I am, and please, your lunch is on me. It’s the least Ah can do. Ah could order you a new steak, if you like?”  

“Actually” the woman looks between the two dishes again, “this salad looks pretty good, I wouldn’t mind sharing it if you’d like to share some of that steak with me.”

Bog was sure his jaw physically dropped. Never had that actually worked before. He’d met women who had been angry, some had been embarrassed, but not one had ever offered to share the meal with him before. With a smile she placed the salad dish on the table and took the seat opposite him. 

“I’m Marianne, by the way” she offered, extending her hand, “Marianne Faye.”

Bog choked on his mouthful of water, _did she just say Faye?_ As in the daughter of Robert Faye, the owner of Fairlots Winery, a brand Bog had been trying to get into his restaurant for years? Fate or something like it must truly be shining down on him today. 

“Bog” he said, his voice a little raspy from the incident with the water, “King.” He shook her hand in a quick and firm businesslike manner. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her hands were and the fact that she too had a firm grip.

Marianne tries not to show how visibly affected she is by the deepness of his voice. Dear lord woman, get a hold of yourself she internally chides.

“King” she contemplated his last name, “now why does that sound familiar?” she asked, cocking her head innocently to the side, a painted nail tapping her lip.

 _Maybe because I own the restaurant_ , he thought. “No idea” he said out loud.

Having successfully cut the remainder of the steak in half Bog placed it on top of part of the salad, while Marianne dished out half of the salad onto the plate in front of Bog.

“I’ll think of it eventually” she warned him playfully.

Wait, was that _flirting_? Was she flirting with a complete stranger? Marianne quickly shoved a forkful of the leafy greens into her mouth to cover her rising blush. She turned her head to the side to look anywhere but at the gorgeous man sitting across the table from her. 

Bog’s hand froze midway to his mouth. Was she- _did she just_ \- that sounded awfully flirty.  Bog felt his face warm again. Damnit, he blushed so easy, and his fair complexion just made him light up like a beacon.  

***

Dawn nearly choked on her food. She was almost done her salmon before she realised Marianne hadn’t returned yet. She looked up and was surprised to find her sister now sitting with the man who had received her meal instead. Did her eyes deceive her or were they sharing? Marianne was laughing, smiling at something the guy had said, it looked like they might be flirting!

Ever since calling off her engagement over a year ago Marianne hadn’t even so much as looked at another guy and now she was totally hitting on a complete stranger!

‘ _You are not going to believe this!_ ’ Dawn texted to her boyfriend, Sunny. 

‘ _Believe what?_ ’ he messaged back.

Dawn snapped a quick picture of her sister with the mystery guy and sent it to Sunny.

His reply was the open mouth emoji. 

‘ _IKR_ ’

***

Plum was over joyed with herself! Yes, finally she’d gotten a girl to give her boss a chance. She knew Bog could come across as scary looking but secretly he was a sweetheart, who would do anything for anybody. All he needed was the right girl to come along.

‘ _You are not going to believe this’_ she sent a quick text to Bog’s mother. The two ladies had had a friendly rivalry going on for years about who would find Bog a girlfriend first. Plum was currently in the lead.

Without waiting for Griselda to respond she also added a picture of the two, Bog was even smiling! Plum wanted to edge closer to listen in on what the couple were bonding over.   

Plum’s phone buzzed in her pocket, ‘ _Finally!!!_ ’ was the enthusiastic response from Griselda

***

Marianne’s laugh was making Bog’s insides melt. He was giving her an enthusiastic play-by-play of a spectacular bar fight he’d been in, back in his early collage days when he had been a motorbike-riding, leather-wearing rebel. Long before he’d become a connoisseur of fine foods and decadent wines. 

“So I bit him” Bog ended is explanation, making Marianne gasp in surprise and then devolving into a fit of giggles.

“You did not” she accused.

“Marianne Faye, are you calling me a liar?” he quirked one of his bushy eyebrows, and pointed a finger at her

Marianne couldn’t remember the last time she’d had this much fun. A pleasant warmth was filling up her insides and she was pretty sure she hadn’t stop blushing since sitting down. It was a good thing she had forgone a glass of wine. Marianne still wasn’t sure where she knew this man’s name from; she supposed he must be one of her father’s business associates. He looked good in his charcoal-grey suit but when she tried imagining him in black leather riding chaps the image came all too easy. 

 _Woah girl_ , she mentally tried to calm herself down, even as her heartrate increased. He was looking at her and Marianne found she had to turn from his gaze, so intense were his eyes. She looked down into her empty plate and wondered when she had eaten all the food, how long had she been talking to this guy? A thought suddenly struck her like thunder, evaporating her good mood.

“I am the worst sister ever!” she confessed out loud.

She groaned and dragged her hand through her short hair.

Bog blinked at Marianne’s sudden outburst, “What?”  Things had been going so well, too well, he should have known.

“Yeah, I’m here with my sister, it’s her birthday,” Marianne jumped up suddenly from her chair, “I’m so sorry, excuse me.”

With no other explanation to give Marianne ran off back to her original table where Dawn still sat, now taking dainty bites of a rich looking chocolate cake.

“Dawn, I am so sorry-” Marianne launched head first into an apology but Dawn held up her hand and Marianne fell silent.

“Blah, blah, blah, worst sister ever, yeah, I know” Dawn said dryly, then offered Marianne a very genuine smile.

“I wish you could see how you look,” Dawn gushed, then giggled when Marianne made a face.

“Why?” She asked, slipping back into a chair.

“I know something about love” Dawn quoted wisely, in a soft sing-song voice.

Marianne’s rising blush was reward enough.

“I haven’t seen you that happy in a long time; I wasn’t going to interrupt it.” Dawn cooed soothingly. 

“Thanks sis” Marianne found herself to be genuinely grateful, and offered Dawn a bashful smile in return. She truly had been having a wonderful time talking to and getting to know Bog. Had Dawn come over Marianne probably would have gotten embarrassed and done or said something stupid.

“So, what’s his name, what does he do?” Dawn asked, all inquisitive.

“His name is Bog, and, you know, I’m not really sure what he does” Marianne scrunched her face up, frustrated for not being able to put her finger on it. The answer she was sure was right under her nose.

Marianne nearly jumped out of her chair when the maître d' cleared her throat from behind her. 

“Excuse me ladies, I just wanted to let you know your bill has been taken care of. Please feel free to sit as long as you like. Would you like a dessert Miss?” The woman, whose nametag read Plum, asked turning to Marianne.

“No, thank you, I’m good” she protested, trying to turn around and see if Bog was still at his table, he wasn’t.

“The man I was sitting with, did he pay for it. I told him he didn’t have to.” Marianne was secretly flattered, but a tiny note of anger crept its way into her tone. 

“You could say that” Plum hinted vaguely.

“This might be classified information but, can you tell me, is he a regular here?” Marianne asked. Geeze, why didn’t she get his number before running off like that?

“Why, yes, he is Miss.” Plum was struggling to hide her smile. 

“Do you by chance have his contact information? “ Marianne asked, before realising how that sounded, “I’d just really like to send him a thank-you note.” She explained.

“I do actually, just one moment.” Plum confirmed.

Dawn was finished with her cake and Plum caught the sisters at the door, a business card in hand.

“Here is Mr. King’s information” Plum said, just barely restraining her smirk, “use it wisely.”

“Thank-you” Marianne was puzzled by the woman’s cryptic, ‘ _use it wisely_ ’ what was all that about?

She read the card as they walked to her car. She stopped walking.

When Dawn realised she was talking to herself she turned around to spot her sister just standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring at the business card.

“What, what is it?” Dawn asked all curious.

Marianne flipped the card around to show her sister, it read: Bog King, Owner _La Forte Noire_ restaurant, followed by a contact number for the restaurant.

“Wow, he was the owner” Dawn was in awe. Her sister really knew how to pick ‘em.

She looked back up to see Marianne struck dumb yet again, “what now?” she whined.

On the back of the card was written another number with the word CELL underlined, _twice_.

Dawn’s jaw dropped instantly, mirroring her sister’s before the two girls bust into giggles!

Marianne was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, she couldn’t believe it! She’d had an amazing lunch with a total stranger who had paid her bill, only to find out he was the owner of the restaurant! And she got his number. 

Marianne did an enthusiastic happy dance all the way back to her car.

Use it wisely indeed.


End file.
